


What's New Pussycat?

by The_Sad_Hatter



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But he also kinda wants to push her off a roof as well, Death, Extreme Gore, F/M, Female Reader, Feral mutant reader, Fluff, Humour, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki being Loki, Loki being a BAMF, Loki getting apologies, Loki gradually getting treated the way he deserves, Loki is smitten with reader, Multi, No physical descriptions, Other, Reader being a cute psychopath, Torture, extreme violence, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter
Summary: Loki finds himself unwillingly allied with The Avengers, helping them defend the Earth as part of his ‘rehabilitation’, and thanks to a little interference from Doctor Strange, there’s no escaping his terrible fate. There’s nowhere Loki can go that Thor can not find him, unless he can find a way to disrupt Strange’s magical tracker.Enter you, the vicious mercenary who can and will take on any job for the right price… You wouldn’t mind having an IOU from a god, and the fact that you also get to mess around with magic and annoy a sorcerer? That’s just a bonus.But breaking Loki free of his bindings has some unexpected consequences, and as the domino’s start to topple, your life grows increasingly out of control. Trying to fend off Earth’s Mightiest Hero’s and a very irate god of Mischief is a little more chaos than you signed up for, especially since your past is starting to come back and haunt you.You have to do the one thing you hate more than anything, you’ve gotta clean up the mess you made, but Loki sure as Hel isn’t going to make it easy for you.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Loki x Reader
Comments: 39
Kudos: 97





	1. Deal With The Devil

Hydra might have tried to add some formidableness to their organization with the whole “Cut one head off and another will grow its place” bullshit, but you saw right through it. They weren’t mythical or fearsome, they were more like cockroaches, they just kept surviving every extermination attempt. You never took a job you didn’t think you’d get a kick out of, but this one was extra-special. Hell, you’d have done this one for free. Sneaking into Hydra bases and butchering them one by one from the shadows while they scurried around in a panic and tried to figure out who was painting the walls with blood, it was good wholesome fun. The fact you were being paid an obscene amount of money for dropping bodies was just the cherry on top of the cake.

“Today is a good day!” You exclaimed, replacing the magazine on your gun giddily.

The agent at your feet groaned unhappily as he tried to crab crawl away from you, leaving a trail of blood on the ground underneath him like a gigantic fascist slug.

“Not for you, obviously,” You snorted, pointing the freshly loaded gun at him and firing a shiny bullet between his eyes.

You hummed in satisfaction at the little crowd of corpses around the room and turned away, jauntily sauntering out of the room when a rapid beeping erupted from the computer consoles against the wall. There were multiple screens, all showing live images from various locations in and around the base. The beeping was coming from the screen that showed the sky above the compound, and you grinned as you saw what the alert was for.

Yes, today was a good day indeed.

~~~

As the Quinjet descended, Loki sighed and stood up, readying himself to partake in another pointless fight where he didn’t care about the outcome.

“Loki and I will take the south side!” Thor declared as the ramp descended, so loudly that it was a wonder the enemy didn’t hear him.

“Will we?” Loki asked wryly.

It was bad enough that he was banished here to Midgard, but to have to defend it? Despicable.

The worst (or perhaps best) part was that there were so many people to blame for his current misfortune. The Sorcerer Strange who had discovered Odin on this realm and informed Thor, Heimdall who had taken control of the Bifrost and brought his enemies to Asgard, Sif and The Warriors Three who had convinced the royal guard to betray him, and _Thor_ … Thor who had argued for mercy on his brother’s behalf, who had uncovered the truth of his mind control under Thanos. Thor who had suggested that instead of imprisonment, Loki be given the same treatment he had once received, Banishment to Midgard.

“Come brother, it will be just like old times!” The current and usual subject of Loki’s ire cajoled, slinging a preposterously large bicep across his shoulders.

It was not enough that Loki be disgraced and banished, he had to suffer the indignity of ‘rehabilitation’, of being forced to work with Midgard’s mightiest heroes.

“Very well, we shall dispatch of the mortal scum on the south side.” Loki sighed, lithely stepping away from Thor’s embrace and disembarking from the Quinjet.

Thor may be a fool, but he was not foolish enough to trust Loki, so until he found a way to disentangle himself from the magical binds that not only dampened his magic, but ensured Thor would always know his whereabouts, Loki had no choice but to play along. It would not last forever though; he _would_ free himself. Until then…

He unsheathed his daggers and set out towards the south side, eager to at least find a receptacle for his rage.

“Somethings wrong.” The Captain muttered.

In a rare occurrence, he found himself agreeing with the man out of his time. They had been prepared for Hydra to try and defend itself, but no such effort was forthcoming. In fact, all was eerily silent around the secret base. They hadn’t hidden their arrival, deliberately trying to draw the enemy into battle, but the base remained still as they approached it warily.

“Maybe nobody’s home?” Stark suggested, though he lacked conviction in his own statement.

“Are we sure out intel is good, that this base is active?” The winged one, the Falcon asked.

“It’s active, the agent I interrogated was sure of it.” The other soldier, the metal-armed one, said harshly.

He believed that, he had seen The Winter Soldiers handiwork. It was impressive, and artful. If James Barnes said that this place was an active stronghold for Hydra, then it was. He almost opened his mouth to say so but was interrupted before he had the chance.

“We have movement!” The Black Widow warned as a door clanged open and a dark suited man tumbled out.

The Hydra agent rushed towards them, stumbling over his own feet when he saw he faced not one but two gods, Captain America, Iron Man, Hawkeye, The Black Widow, The Falcon, and The Winter Soldier.

“I surrender! I surrender, just keep that merc away from me!” The Agent yelled, tossing his gun on the ground and throwing his hands in the air.

“Well, glad to see that Hydra are as spineless as ever.” Stark snorted.

“What merc?” The Black Widow asked sharply, not taking her gun off of the Hydra Agent.

“Deadpool?” Captain America asked with a tinge of not quite fear, but nervousness.

Before an answer could be given, there was a sharp scream from inside the compound, a pathetic wail of sheer agony that was abruptly cut off. There was a beat of silence, and then without any warning the skull of the Hydra Agent in front of them exploded outward in shower of blood and brain and the man fell face down in the mud, the open wound where the back of his head should be seeping viscous red fluids into the dirt.

“He had surrendered!” Clint snapped in the direction from which the bullet had been fired as The Avengers moved as one, aiming all their weapons in that direction. 

A figure sauntered out of the doorway and he perked up curiously, watching as the newcomer swaggered into view like they had not a care in the world.

“Sorry not sorry birdie, I wasn’t paid to take prisoners.” You announced, and true to your words there was not an ounce of regret in your tone.

Had he not had centuries of practice concealing his emotions, Loki would have gasped as you emerged from the shadows like a specter of death, blood splashed across you, gun dangling limply from your fingers like you didn’t see them as a threat.

Loki could barely tear his eyes away from you, your presence was commanding attention. He hadn’t met a mortal so dripping with ego since Stark himself, but unlike Iron Man yours was paired with cold indifference. Your ego wasn’t fragile, it wasn’t an exploitable weak point that he could attack. He would never admit it aloud, but he gave you the attention you demanded without any qualms, drinking in everything he could about you in a split second.

Were you beautiful by mortal standards? He didn’t know, and he certainly didn’t care, but you were beautiful by his standards for certain, though it had nothing to do with the physical aspects of your appearance. No, what he found drawing him in was the absolutely wicked smirk on your lips as you faced down the team of hero’s, the amused twinkle in your eyes that beckoned him in with promised of chaos. Your nature was plain to see, unhidden from him, and it shone brightly. He didn’t know who you were, but he knew what you were; He was the god of mischief, he knew it when he saw it and you were the personification of it.

“And who the hell is paying you to take down Hydra bases, Kitty cat?” Hawkeye responded almost amicably, lowering his bow.

Loki dragged his eyes away from you, turning his attention to the archer who addressed you with familiarity. A quick glance at everyone’s reactions told him all he needed to know. The Widow and The Archer had both relaxed upon realizing it was you they were facing, but nobody else had untensed. If anything, some of them had grown warier, namely the Captain and Stark.

“You know I can’t tell you that, Client confidentiality.” You shrugged.

“You don’t know, do you?” The Widow guessed; her tone as close to friendly as he had heard her use outside of the Team.

“Not a clue,” You admitted “But I was offered a lot of money to kill Nazi’s, why would I look that gift horse in the mouth?”

“Are you always so discerning with your assignments?” Stark asked, finally lowering his gauntlet, visor sliding up so he could level you with a scathing glare.

“We can’t all be hopelessly moral do-gooders, some of us weren’t born with a stick up our ass.” You shot back.

“Do we know this… warrior?” His brother asked, seemingly at a loss for what exactly you were.

“Thankfully we don’t, not personally anyway.” Stark scoffed.

“We know her by reputation.” The Captain added disapprovingly.

“We know her.” The Widow pointed out, motioning to herself and the archer as if it weren’t obvious.

“Thor, meet Cool Cat, she’s a mercenary. A gun for hire.” Clint introduced.

“Gun, knife, grenade, whatever’s handy, or necessary to get the job done.” You elaborated.

“An assassin.” Thor nodded sagely, grossly mislabeling you, like there weren’t mercenaries all over the universe, including Asgard.

“If that’s what I’m paid to be… I’m _very_ flexible though, I can kill, maim, threaten, steal, break, spy, walk your dog etc., it’s all about the payment. There’s not a lot I won’t do for the right price, and more importantly, there’s not a lot I _can’t_ do for the right price. Which is why you folks can go home, cause I just cleaned house.” You announced.

Loki perked up at that, his mind quickly churning as he put together a plan in his head. You would do _anything_ for a price, and if you could easily break into and dismantle a small Hydra base, what else were you capable of? 

“Alone? You took down a Hydra base, alone?” The metal-armed solider asked sharply, speaking for the first time.

Loki was silently impressed. While you were covered in blood, there wasn’t a mark on you. The Avengers intel said there was between 15-25 active agents here, easy enough for a trained mortal to take down, but to do so with ease? That gave him limited faith in your ability, enough to consider you useful at least.

“More importantly. Cool Cat?” The Falcon asked in disbelief.

“Don’t!” Clint warned, too late.

“Oh, I’m sorry, _Falcon_ , every other asshole with a gimmick is allowed a stupid moniker, but not me? I mean we’re cool with the guy in a fucking titanium alloy suit being called ‘Iron Man’, no offence big guy; I’m a huge fan, but we’re drawing the line at a frankly awesome gal with a feline mutation being called ‘Cool Cat’?”

“Hellcat was taken.” The Widow said flatly, quirking a challenging brow in your direction.

“Fucking Trish.” You muttered under your breath.

“Put the claws away, Pussycat. It was just a question.” The Falcon assured, holding his hands up.

“Speaking of questions, what do we do with her?” Stark prodded. “She’s a merc, she’s on the wrong side of the law, but she did just decimate a Hydra base; Friday isn’t reading any life signs inside.”

“How about you just thank me, and I’ll be on my merry way.” You suggested sarkily.

That wasn’t going to happen, these morally uptight heroes wouldn’t accept your effective methods, you wouldn’t be allowed to just walk away from this, Unless…

“Are we really to allow this murderess to walk free? What about the laws you so steadfastly enforce?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest and painting on his most disdainful expression.

“It’s not that simple Loki. We can’t arrest every vigilante who does good, the people need them.” The Captain argued quickly.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed you cock your head to the side and stare across the open space at him. He assumed you were directing your ire towards him, but he sensed no malfeasance coming from you, only curiosity.

“So we are forgiving crimes now? So easily?” He snarled.

“Pipe down, Horns, she didn’t break any real laws. Murder isn’t murder if it’s Hydra, she’s clear.” Stark all but snapped at him.

Manipulating these mortals was so easy that it almost wasn’t satisfying.

“Well, you said it, I’m all good. In that case…” You chirped, patting down your sides until you let out a soft cry of triumph and pulled a device from one of your pockets.

A cellphone, that you held aloft as you spun around until the Captain was at your back.

“Say ‘Hi Wade!”” You ordered, making an obscene gesture in the air.

“Wade?” The Captain demanded, visibly paling.

“Thanks Cap. Nice meeting you all, thanks for not arresting me. Yo, Hawk, I’ll see you at Poker Night!”

Hawkeye shrugged, unconcerned as he was levelled with several stares of disbelief. “I have to go, I need to win back my house. She literally owns my ass.” He defended.

Loki watched as you walked away, thinking quickly. He needed to speak with you, but how to manage it without his brother realizing?

“Alright well, let’s go raid the dead guys evil lair. Friday and I will hack their systems.” Stark suggested.

Perfect.

“I shall wait onboard. I have little interest in this endeavor.” Loki announced, cutting Thor off before he could speak. “Do not worry brother, I could not stray far even if I wanted to.” He appeased, not bothering to hide the bitterness from his tone.

He ignored Thor’s response as he strode up the ramp of the Quinjet, calling his seoir as soon as he was out of sight. His magic was dampened, but with enough concentration he could duplicate himself for a limited time, though he could not create multiple copies of himself, nor could he send them far from his physical form.

As soon as you entered the treeline, he was waiting, ensconced in the shadows. To his surprise, you didn’t so much as flinch.

“Yes.” You smirked, leaning against the tree trunk beside him. 

“I have need of your services.” He stated bluntly.

“I figured, the yes wasn’t a question Mr. Mischief, it was an agreement.” You informed him, your eyes sparkling.

“So easily?” He frowned, it was too simple, there had to be a catch. “You don’t even know what I want from you.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, I can do it, and I will.” You stated cockily.

“For the right price…” He accused.

“You’re a god, I’m sure you can make it worth my while.”

He was also sure he could, but whether he would was a different question.

“Tell me what you desire.” He demanded lowly.

“Haven’t decided yet. For now, I’m willing to simply say you owe me a favour.”

“I will not be indebted to anybody.” He paused, sighing heavily as you looked down at his chest and extended your hand towards it, “Stop that!”

You ignored him, continuing to push your hand through his chest, fascinated by your limb passing right through his incorporeal form.

“I’m going to guess you need me to spring you from your burly big bro’s care, because there’s no way you’re an Avenger by choice. And if you’re stuck, it’s got to be magical, it’s the only thing that could work on you. So, there’s only two possible places magic powerful enough to bind a god could come from, and if this was Asgardian magic then you wouldn’t be asking an Earthling for help, ergo: You need me to undo the spell that Doctor Strange has placed on you.” You deduced, accurately, finally pulling your hand away.

“Well, aren’t you a clever kitten?” He crooned, hiding his pleasant surprise you were smart enough to put it all together.

“The cleverest.” You preened, ignoring the scathing sarcasm in his tone, “I’ve never had an excuse to break into The Sanctum before, so I’m excited!”

“You believe you can do it?” He pressed.

“Oh, easy. Magic is more difficult to do than it is to undo. But you don’t have anything I want, _yet_. If you want me to help you now, then you’re going to have to help me in the future.” You bartered.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, trying to figure out what your angle was. You were smart and capable, and so clearly dangerous; That was all he knew about you. He couldn’t safely put himself in your debt, not even for his freedom.

“Tell me the truth, what is it you envision I can do for you in the future? And before you try to lie, let me remind you who I am. I am Loki, god of Lies and Mischief. You cannot deceive me, not trick me.” He warned, drawing himself to his full height and staring deep into your eyes.

“As sexy as this whole act is, and it is sexy, you can relax. I’d never make you do anything you didn’t ultimately enjoy. In my line of work, the only thing that pays better than cash is favours. As lovable as I am, I make more enemies than friends, so there may come a day where I need you to help me out. Maybe I’ll ask you to kill someone, but you don’t strike me as somebody who’ll have any problem with that.”

There was so much truth in what you were saying, but something told him it wasn’t the whole truth. He stepped back and regarded you, wondering what secrets you were hiding beneath your saccharine smile’s and casual flirtations.

“Loki!”

He cursed lowly at Thor’s jovial roar, watching as his brother made his way out of the building and towards the Quinjet. He was out of time to unravel your mysteries, a decision had to be made and made now. Was he willing to trade in being bound to Thor to being bound to you? That was even assuming you could do what you promised.

He turned back to you and the grin you tossed his way was positively feral. You and he both knew he had little choice in the matter.

“So, what do you say Trickster, do we have a deal?”

It felt like that Midgardian saying he had often heard, but he would not, could not continue to live under Thor’s tyrannical rule. Even if it meant making a deal with the Devil.

“We have a deal. Free me, and I give you my word I will repay you one day.” He agreed.


	2. Sanctum Sting

There was a rusty brown stain on the stone step, and you knew exactly what it was from a split-second glance, no need to sniff the air. Blood didn’t dry pretty, not all sparkly and bright like it was when it was fresh, bloodstains were murky and definitively aesthetically displeasing.

“Sorry Wade.” You murmured softly, biting back a grin as you raised your fist to bang on the imposing doors.

The bang echoed loudly inside the building, like shockwaves rippling from your knuckles on the wood.

“Nifty.” You said, appreciating the dramatic aura.

The door swung open and you plastered on your best impression of a customer service smile.

“Special Delivery!” You announced.

“Yes… We’ve been expecting you.” The tall, _slightly_ imposing man responded in a tone heavily laced with judgement.

You had no idea what he was judging you for, you hadn’t done anything to warrant it. Yet.

“Doctor Strange?” You checked, neatly sliding through the crack in the door, easily twisting past him, though you could have sworn the red cloak he was draped in had reached out for you.

“And you’re…” He paused, sighing almost imperceptibly, “Cool Cat. Your friend called ahead to inform us you had an object we should inspect.”

Everybody had a problem with the damn name. It wasn’t like there were a lot of cat related names up for grabs, and you _were_ a Cool Cat, so they would just have to deal with it.

The door whooshed closed and the Sorcerer stepped into your line of sight, blocking you from looking around the Sanctum. You rolled your eyes as he held out his hand expectantly.

“You know, I always thought it made a lot of sense for cats to be Witches familiars. I might not have an ounce of magic in me, but I can feel it when it’s around. Some kind of feline sense.”

He stared you down, utterly unimpressed, impatiently waiting for you to get to the point.

“I was ‘recruited’ to take ‘care’ of a nasty little billionaire who’s preferred method’s of investing his ill earned riches included funding dictatorships in oil rich countries, and collecting rare artefacts. The former being of more interest to you…” You explained, reaching into the inside pocket of your coat, bypassing the gun strapped to your ribcage.

You unsheathed the ancient, long dagger, flipping it around to catch it by the blade before you handed it off, letting The Sorcerer take it by the hilt. He took it from you, studiously inspecting the dark obsidian blade.

“The plaque said something about it being a Titan shard?” You offered obliviously.

As if you didn’t know exactly what it was, you’d purposefully hunted the damn thing down and paid yourself off the kill the previous owner. After you’d bribed Wade into testing the security of the Sanctum and he’d been literally shredded, you’d had to come up with an alternate plan to gain entry. A dagger that was crafted from the remains of the ancient beings that fathered an entire pantheon of gods was like an all access pass.

“I can feel the power in it, didn’t think it should just be left lying about, so I asked around and apparently you’re the go to guy for mystical artefacts.” You explained amicably.

“How… _moral_.” Strange noted, though it sounded suspiciously more like an accusation.

“It’s the Merc thing, isn’t it? You doubt my selfless nature because I’m smart enough to get paid for doing what every one else runs around doing for free?” You teased.

He narrowed his eyes, seemingly satisfied with the Dagger and turning his full attention towards you.

“And I’m supposed to just believe you’re going to what, donate this?” He challenged.

“I know you wouldn’t have let me across the Threshold without a stellar recommendation, but consider this… I wouldn’t have crossed it unless you _also_ had a stellar recommendation.” You rebutted, meeting the challenge in his tone with no small amount of sass in yours, “That thing is too dangerous, it can’t fall into the wrong hands, and you have the means and morals to ensure that it never does.”

He mulled it over for a hot second before he nodded in agreement.

“But, since we’re friends now, if you wanted to do me a tiny favour, that would be swell.” You added before he could say anything else.

“And there it is, the catch.” He sarked.

“No catch Gandalf, the Dagger is yours. I was just looking for a rare book that you guys probably have. I study Lycanthropy in my spare time, cause you know,” You gestured to yourself, “’ _Meow’_ , and I’ve been searching forever for Lupin’s Compendium of Lycanthropic Strains. Specifically the feline chapters.”

“I believe we have a copy.” He said, relaxing at the harmless nature of your request. “I can not let you take it from The Sanctum though.”

“Hmm, I have somewhere to be in,” You checked your empty wrist for dramatic effect, “Forty minutes ago… well shit, Frank’s gonna be pissed.” You grimaced.

That part wasn’t a lie.

“Got a photocopier?” You tried.

“Oh, yes,

“Great, thanks.” You muttered distractedly, pulling out your phone and wandering towards the door.

It rang twice before a gruff voice answered, and you immediately launched into a gushing apology, listening carefully as Strange’s footsteps eventually moved away from you. He was probably very irritated, enough to just want you out of The Sanctum, but not so annoyed that he was suspicious of you. It was a thin line to walk, but you were pretty confident you had it mastered. Wade could learn a thing or twelve dozen from you.

You quickly hit play on the recording on your phone, letting your own voice fill the foyer as you placed the phone down on a table and glanced around. You had at best a few minutes before Strange returned, so if you wanted to rob Hogwarts, you had to work fast.

You weren’t quite sure why your feline senses seemed to pick up the prickle of magic in the air, when other cat-types didn’t always have the same ability. It wasn’t because you had any latent magic in you, you’d asked, repeatedly. Most likely it was because your Feral mutation leaned more towards your senses than your physical nature, not that you didn’t have a fantastically fun dose of super strength and agility to play with. Still, whatever the reason, it sure as hell came in handy.

Sending Wade ahead of you had more than one purpose, not that you’d informed the poor bugger of that. With the key to a once-warmongering god’s shackles on the premises, you figured that an attempted break in would warrant a security upgrade. This place might be swimming in magic, there was magic in every particle of air, dancing around the rooms like dust, but all you had to do was sniff out the strongest and freshest batch.

If you really squinted, you could _almost_ see flickering in the light, little specs of gold, but as soon as you focused, they were gone. If you breathed deeply enough, you thought you could smell it, a warm intoxicating amber scent, but as soon as you thought you picked up the trail, it was gone. If you listened intently, you imagined you could hear the chimes of it clinking around you, but as soon as the notes rang out, they dissipated.

You’d never tried licking magic, so maybe you could taste it, but this wasn’t the right time to try it out. The only thing to do was walk, to let your senses tell your feet what your brain couldn’t quite process, to let your senses lead you without wondering how they were doing it. So that’s what you did, silently pouncing through the halls and rooms of the Sanctum, quickly and carefully. You stopped abruptly before a set of ornate doors, knowing your quest was successful, your prize waiting on the other side.

There was likely going to be some kind of alert if you opened those doors, and Strange would come sweeping in to thwart you. It could easily get very, very messy.

You liked messy.

You swung the doors open dramatically, tensed and ready should there be a threat on the other side of them, but all that awaited you was…

“Well hello gorgeous.” You crooned, approaching the large statue on the pedestal in the centre of the room, catching the twisted reflection of your victorious smirk in the shining surface.

There was absolutely no doubt that this was what you were looking for. It screamed ‘God Of Mischief’, this glittering twisted serpent carved of iridescent crystal. The way the light hit it, you couldn’t tell if it was really moving or it was a trick of the light, it looked so real. You reached out towards it, half expecting to feel scales under your touch, but before you could connect with the mystical artefact, you were interrupted by a shouted demand behind you.

“Don’t!”

You paused in your actions, turning your head to meet The Sorcerer Supreme’s hard gaze.

“You have no idea what you are messing with.” He warned, a little frantically.

His hands were raised in front of his chest, a spell on the edge of his fingertips, but he held still. You glanced between the crystal structure and The Sorcerer protecting it, thoughtfully mulling his cautious stance. Now you knew he wasn’t holding himself back on your account, which meant he was protecting the crystal millimetres from your reach.

“Huh.” You muttered a little giddily.

And then you looked up into his eyes, meeting his gaze unflinchingly as you very deliberately pushed it off it’s pedestal, letting it fall to the ground and shatter splendidly, the ear-splitting crash music to your ears.

“Well that wasn’t very sturdy.” You remarked,

Strange’s eye’s widened as he strode forward, cloak flapping around his shoulders like it was a separate but equally frantic entity.

“You have made a grave mistake.” He told you darkly, steeling himself for what was surely an inevitable fight.

“Yes, yes I have.” You agreed.

You didn’t need Doctor Strange to tell you that you’d fucked up, you could feel it. Literally, you could feel it inside you, a not unpleasant tugging pulling you across the city. Breaking the statue hadn’t broken the spell, it had transferred it into the nearest unbroken receptacle.

You’d just bound yourself to Loki. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first chapter, I'm really really freaking grateful. This nearly flopped but you guys clutched it, it's literally down to you guys that I managed to find the confidence to do the second chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your first real time with Cool Cat, and the set up for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> So it’s been a reeeeeaaaaaaalllllyyyy long time since I posted fanfic, and as you can imagine, I am incredibly nervous about posting again. 
> 
> This chapter is more of an introductory chapter, so I really think/hope/pray the quality will improve as I get over my rustiness, still… I would really appreciate any and all feedback you are willing to give! FEED ME! PLEASE! I BEG! I’m low-key terrified that most of my readers are gone and this is gonna flop.


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